When I Think About You, I Touch Myself
by IrisAyumi
Summary: Rachel has a problem. That is, she has to touch herself whenever she thinks of Quinn, which is way too often. The time has come to take action.


**AN: Hi there! So, smutty, I was listening to this song and suddenly this story came to me... so I sat down and wrote it. I hope you like it. Of course, reviews equal virtual hugs & cookies! **

**Song: I Touch Myself by The Divinyls. Check it out. For real.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, because if I did, Faberry would be the real thing :) I also don't own the song I Touch Myself. But I do think it's made of win. Enjoy!

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Rachel came home and slammed the door loudly. It gave a satisfying bang.

"What's wrong, honey?" She heard the voice from her father from the living room. She huffed in indigence and stormed up the stairs to her room. If she was in this kind of mood, her dads usually knew better than to talk to her. No reason would get to her then.

One of the most horrible things about it was, she couldn't talk about it, she couldn't even _think_ about it without making it worse. The only thing that was left to do was trying her hardest to focus on something else, like she had been doing for the last few weeks. It was getting harder, she could tell. Because of course, the golden rule is that the harder you try to take your mind off of something, the more it comes back to it.

At 9 PM, desperately early, she gave up on the day and was ready to seek her comfort in sleep. Nothing like a good night's sleep to brighten a mood. She was lying in bed, still sporting an expression that would fit with steam blowing out of her ears. She tried to shake her frustrations by more distraction, and plugged in her iPod. It took the first 6 songs of her Wicked soundtrack to calm down, and she put her iPod away.

_Actually,_ Rachel thought, trying to reach for her teddy bear, _today was a really good day. Finn was being very chivalrous, Noah gave me a most charming smile, I had a pleasant conversation with Mercedes, Tina and Artie during lunch instead of sitting by myself, it is solo time in Glee again and we had an exceptional good practice today… no slushies, and no insults! Not even from—_

Rachel groaned. The name burst through her mind.

_Quinn._

Her teddy bear fell and took something else - probably her deodorant - with him, but she didn't pay mind to it. Immediately, Quinn's face popped into her mind. Already her hands started wandering. Not again.

It had become a horrible habit lately, but it seemed that she couldn't help herself. Because at the sheer thought of Quinn's name, she felt her stomach knot pleasurably and a tingling sensation in her lower regions. Each time she saw Quinn, she had to go somewhere private afterwards and help herself if she wanted to be in a state that resembled normalcy. The girls' bathroom on the second floor, closest to the teacher's lounge, had become an unsafe place to go to. So it was a good thing no-one ever did.

She sighed, as her left hand wandered upwards, under her tank top. Of course, her nipples were already hardened. This was the fourth time today. The fourth! She knew that she was a teenager, but her libido just seemed to be out of control. Every time she thought of Quinn, it was like she had no choice but to… take care of herself.

She looked at the clock. It was already 9:40. She really had wanted to go to sleep, because this rhythm was wearing her out. Had to make this quick, then. She almost didn't feel like doing it, but in this state she knew she couldn't sleep. Make it quick.

She slipped her fingers under the waistband of her shorts and was met by intense heat, emanating from her insides. She fumbled searchingly for a second and her fingers found her entrance, slipping 2 fingers inside. Wet already. Of course she was.

Her thumb went to draw circles around her clit, and her hips bucked up at once. She tried to force the blonde out of her mind, closing her eyes and focusing on the picture of Finn, pumping in and out her at a high pace. It immediately slipped from her mind, her focus wasn't enough. It seemed almost like her mind was pushing the image away.

So instead, she closed her eyes tighter, imagining Puck, while she was caressing his penis before taking it in her mouth. Nothing, not even when she let her hand slide over his abs in her mind. She'd heard that sperm tastes extremely bad. Rumour had it that Noah tasted even worse than average, a rumour most likely to be started by Santana. Santana however, knew what she was talking about, so it was probably true.

She tried to hold on to the picture while entering herself, but it was already slipping from her mind, and a third one replaced it, one that she knew better than all of them. One that she didn't have trouble clinging to, because this was the picture that forced itself inside her mind on moments that it was completely uncalled for. Quinn, between her legs, blonde hair tousled and her tongue on Rachel's clit.

She tried to stop it – she hated coming while thinking of Quinn – but already she felt the small explosion inside her, a wave of wetness coming out, and she started shaking uncontrollably, moaning softly. She rode out her orgasm before lying still, just listening to her own panting.

It had become a horrible habit, indeed. 4 times a day wasn't anything special anymore, she had managed to get up to 6 just last Thursday, a day that Quinn bent down to pick up her… whatever, and was wearing a skirt that lengthwise could compete with the her own. The Cheerio's were probably the only girls wearing skirts shorter than Rachel's.

She had excused herself at once, and actually skipped History in order to bring herself up to a second mind-blowing orgasm in the back of the auditorium. This had to stop. Right now.

Perhaps, if she could get into a slightly erotic scene with Quinn, just once, that would be enough. She could vent her frustrations, finally letting her inappropriately lusting hormones loose. She quickly started thinking, still in her after bliss, so she wouldn't be tempted to go at it again. It didn't take long to come up with a plan that accentuated her strong points, and decided.

If this plan wasn't going to work, she would go to Ms. Pillsbury's office the next day, confess it all and even accept and read the pamphlet she would undoubtedly receive, "I Can't Stop Touching Myself!". She shuddered at the thought of confiding in Ms. Pillsbury when it came to sex.

When she'd asked Ms. Pillsbury for help with Jesse, it had been a massive, uncomfortable failure. Ms. Pillsbury didn't know anything about sex, was most likely still a virgin, and Rachel would bet that she had never touched herself.

This'd better work.

* * *

It took but one day for her to make all the arrangements. The next day would be _the _day. She was glad that she wouldn't have to wait so long, since the way things were now was absolutely driving her insane.

She could've sworn Quinn had smiled at her that day. Alluringly. Which led to an immediate escape to the second floor girls' bathroom. She wasn't sure how much longer things could continue like this. It was a good thing that hopefully, after tomorrow everything was done for.

* * *

The next day, Rachel walked around with the butterflies all day long. It was the first time in about 11 years that she was nervous for a performance. She kept her head down the entire day, careful not to look at Quinn accidentally. The girl was in the back of her mind the entire day, but she kept her focus on anything that wouldn't remind her of the blonde.

It was a great risk she was taking, putting yourself out there always is. Only the guilt was enough to convince her to still go through with this plan. The guilt, that always came after coming, that feeling that she had done something very wrong.

Secretly lusting after Quinn made her feel like a pervert. It made her feel like she was comparable to Jacob Ben Israel, and if there was one person who she did not want to be compared to it was Jacob Ben Israel, the only one lower on the social ladder than her.

At least now, she would be open with Quinn. Because there would be no way that Quinn would misunderstand this message.

"Alright, everybody!" Mr. Shue walked in, rubbing his hands and grinning wildly.

"Excited, are we? I sure am! We're starting the solos today, and as usual, Rachel requested to go first! So everyone, sit back and enjoy! Rachel, the stage is yours!"

He sat down and looked at her encouragingly. Were her nerves showing? Rachel wasn't sure. She knew her palms were sweating. Her eyes fell on the object of her desire, her reason for doing this in the first place.

Immediately she felt the need to wet her lips, while below exactly that was being done, it seemed, her want already pooling below. Instead of fleeing the scene and use to the bathroom for a purpose that it was never meant for again, she embraced it, ready to use the feelings so she could express them in the way that she did best. Sing it out.

The heavy bass started pumping, and there was no going back now. It didn't matter. The confident Rachel, the stage presence, was taking over now. The guitar was filling in for the intro, and Puck was already grinning wildly. Figures he would know this song. The drum signalled the ending of the intro, and Rachel, leaning against the piano, started singing:

_I love myself  
I want you to love me  
When I'm feelin' down  
I want you above me_

She sauntered towards her audience. She knew that they probably thought that she would be playing them all, since she usually did – it was important for a performer to make the entire audience feel involved – but this wasn't a normal performance. She did this for once person, and she would be playing one person only. She locked eyes with the girl she had singled out, and was now standing in front of her.

_I search myself  
I want you to find me  
I forget myself  
I want you to remind me_

Rachel rolled her body in front of Quinn. The girl was already blushing a little, and obviously eager for Rachel to continue the song and focus her attention on somebody else. Rachel gave Quinn a little bit more space for the chorus.

_I don't want anybody else  
When I think about you  
I touch myself  
I don't want anybody else  
Oh no, oh no, oh no_

She knew she was being very obvious, but the time for subtlety had passed, so she gestured toward Quinn when she said "you", just so there was no mistaking it.

_You're the one who makes me come running  
You're the sun who makes me shine  
When you're around I'm always laughing  
I want to make you mine_

Rachel rolled her hips and stepped closer to Quinn than even before. The blond girl looked genuinely afraid now.

_I close my eyes  
And see you before me  
Think I would die  
If you were to ignore me_

You could only note it if you were as close as Rachel was to Quinn. Quinn's pupils were nearly blown, her eyes a darker hazel than Rachel had ever seen. And Rachel knew. Quinn wasn't going to stop her. Rachel's sweet, full voice filled the room again.

_A fool could see  
Just how much I adore you  
I get down on my knees  
I'd do anything for you_

Rachel didn't actually get on her knees, but managed to slide down so she was squatting. She got up in time for the chorus, and bent over Quinn, nearly pushing her cleavage in the other girls' face, taking full advantage of the low-cut shirt she had decided on for the occasion.

Her hands were resting on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn was nearly surrounded by Rachel. It was very burlesque... alright, an outright pornographic move, but Rachel figured that if she only had one chance, she'd better take everything she could get.

_I don't want anybody else  
When I think about you  
I touch myself  
I don't want anybody else  
Oh no, oh no, oh no_

Rachel's hand travelled down Quinn's side softly. She felt the other girl completely frozen beneath her touch, especially when her hand touched hard abs.

_I love myself  
I want you to love me  
When I'm feelin' down  
I want you above me_

_I search myself  
I want you to find me  
I forget myself  
I want you to remind me_

She turned around now and rolled her hips again, making sure that her skirt rode up and Quinn had a good view on her ass, one of her many assets.

_I don't want anybody else  
When I think about you  
I touch myself  
I don't want anybody else  
Oh no, oh no, oh no_

For the spoken part, Rachel went back to the centre of the stage. The drummer looked at her gaping, but still managed to keep on drumming. Rachel had to give him props for that. However she was slightly disgusted by the bulge in the pants of the guitarist, even if it did mean she was doing her job well.

_I want you  
I don't want anybody else  
And when I think about you  
I touch myself  
Ooh, oooh, oooooh, aaaaaah_

She took a hold of Quinn's hand and pulled the other girl on stage with no trouble. Quinn's limbs seemed to have gone numb, because Rachel felt no resistance when she pulled. Quinn's mouth was hanging slightly opened, and the girl was still frozen when Rachel went to stand behind her during the chorus, her hands sliding up and down the slim, taller body.

_I don't want anybody else  
When I think about you  
I touch myself  
Oh I don't want anybody else  
When I think about you  
I touch myself_

Quinn stumbled back into her seat, legs seemingly having gone limp beneath her, and Rachel threw in some more hair tossing and lip licking for the outro.

_I touch myself_

_I honestly do_

_I touch myself_

_I honestly do_

_I touch myself…_

The guitarist let the final chord ring and Rachel went to sit on her usual seat again. She felt better for the moment, but had a horrible feeling that her plan hadn't worked, for some reason. A silence fell over Glee club.

"Rachel," Mr. Shue began, after a soft cough, "I encourage musical experiments, and your performance was very…captivating, but I believe that maybe we should keep this number between these four walls. I'd like to encourage the rest of you to sing solos that are more appropriate for a performance, which means PG-13 at most and not... are you even 17 yourself? Don't answer that. But thank you, Rachel!"

For the first time, Rachel took the trouble to look around and see the damage.

Kurt and Artie seemed pretty much untouched by her performance. Brittany was whispering to Santana urgently, Finn looked bright red, Puck was smirking and flexing his guns, Tina was frowning but also a little flustered, Mercedes was wide-eyed and looking very much like 'Oh no she didn't!', and Mike was just blatantly staring like this was the first time he'd ever gone to Glee club and had no idea who Rachel was or what just happened.

Quinn looked flustered. She'd only seen Quinn look a little bit like this when Puck had sung Sweet Caroline. Even Quinn's ears were blushing, and Rachel could nearly sense how aroused she had gotten her. When Glee ended, Quinn was the first one to leave, Finn right after her. And even if it didn't work, Rachel was sure that she wouldn't have missed the experience. Missed this.

The relief lasted until later that night, after dinner. Rachel went up to her room, put her iPod in her dock system and went to sit behind her computer. She was busy writing her Tony acceptance speech when she heard the opening to "I touch myself". A grin spread across her face at first.

It was then, however, that she saw Quinn's face in her mind. The blush, the dilated pupils, the obvious arousal. She fought to keep in a moan and immediately felt all the familiar symptoms, from the quickening pace of her heart to the yearning for release that pooled between her legs.

"Not again," she muttered, but knew it was lost, and went to lie down on her bed.

* * *

Quinn Fabray was twisting and turning in her bed, trying desperately to force herself to go to sleep. There was nothing then that she wanted more than to just… fall asleep. Instead, she felt like something in her lower abdomen was knotting, pounding almost. She had been trying to ignore it for the past couple of hours, but from the second she had lied herself down on the bed it was hopeless. Sleep was avoiding her.

Instinctively she clenched her legs together, and heard a soft, wet noise. She moaned under her breath, both with pleasure and agony. Her hands were aching to slip beneath her waistband and do… do what, exactly? She'd never touched herself. It was ridiculous. Only others are supposed to touch that spot, not you.

The image of Rachel's fingers touching her _there _forced itself into her mind and Quinn gasped, a fresh surge of wetness coursing through her. She instinctively clenched her legs again and rubbed a little. It gave a little relief, but not enough by far. She was onto something here, though.

She'd never taken the time to get to know her body, and minds wonder. She'd felt turned on before, but usually just waited for it to pass. It had never been anything like this. She knew she needed to touch herself. She felt like she would die if she didn't.

She splayed her hand on her stomach, over her tank top. Her heart was racing, but the fact that this was so frowned upon by her parents made it even more alluring. She couldn't be discovered though, but she was pretty sure that all those sounds that people are supposedly making when they're having sex are just for the show.

She inched her hand up higher, towards her pounding heart, and felt another surge of wetness between her legs when her hand passed over a hard nub. She looked down, and saw that her nipples were fully erect. After a moment's doubt, she inched her hand under her tank top and travelled back up again. She pinched the other one, as if to see if it would smooth out again, but instead got another twist in her abdomen, and she moaned softly.

Closing her eyes, her thoughts went back to Rachel singing that song and the moves she was making... When Rachel rolled her hips in her mind, Quinn rolled her own. Continuing her journey, she splayed her hand on her stomach again, but this time went southwards, over her shorts. It felt warm, and she heard another wet sound. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and slowly dragged her shorts down her legs, kicking it away. She didn't even realize she was panting.

She let her hand travel over her panties, and suddenly discovered a huge wet patch, now also wetting her finger. _Where the hell did all those fluids come from?_ She pressed her fingers down, testing the waters, and groaned heartily. Scared by her own reaction, she tried to stay quiet, though her panting continued. Curiosity spiked, she pressed again. Her stomach fluttered and an incomprehensible grunt made it's way out of her mouth.

Uncomfortably enough, she heard her mother's voice in her mind.

_That's quite enough for the day, Quinn! Please don't do this, honey. You know it's bad. You know you'll regret it._

However, it's effect was severely diminished by the mental image of Rachel pushing her tits in Quinn's face. They may not seem like a lot, but up close and personal Rachel's cleavage had left quite an impression.

So she shed her panties and slowly spread her legs. It already felt so good, and encouraged by the tingling excitement that ruled her body now, she allowed her hand to go down... further... further... until she felt a hairy patch. Leaving the known behind, Quinn took a deep breath and cupped herself.

Her hands felt cold, but because she felt so hot it mixed well together. Eyes shut tightly, she imagined Rachel in her room, doing the same, thinking about her. The idea that that had actually happened made her moan again, louder this time.

She slipped one finger inside her slit and set it out to discover. It was wet, and apparently slippery, too. Her fingers were already warmed up, and she allowed her finger to probe around carefully. Going more to the top, she felt a nub, and touched her finger to it.

"Oh God!" She moaned. Her eyes shot open.

_What the hell was _THAT _for a reaction?_

She touched it again, and muffled her sound by biting her pillow. Lower, she could feel the source of all this wetness practically pounding, begging to be touched. She slipped the top of her digit inside, and waited. When nothing happened, she realized she really had to go to the source, go deeper. Taking it very slowly, she slipped the rest of the digit inside, and started moving in and out at a leisure pace.

There was no point in denying it now. It felt good. It felt satisfying. Grunts and squeaks were now escaping from her mouth sporadically, now and then a longer moan thrown in. When she added a second finger, it was the first time she'd ever felt anything hurting... in a good way. The stretching was delicious.

She imagined Rachel again, pumping in and out of herself while thinking of Quinn, her passionate face all contorted in pleasure, pearly beads of sweat that Quinn always saw on her after a particularly intense Glee practice.

She bucked her hips instinctively and realized she'd lost her pace, and was now just pumping without reason. She didn't know where she was going, but she couldn't _wait _to get there.

She searched around with her thumb, trying to reach the nub again. It was harder now than before, and Quinn pressed it firmly. What she felt than, was the most amazing sensation she'd ever felt.

All those things everybody did to feel better, doing drugs, extreme sports, stuff like that, were all possibly lethal. She had no idea why they didn't all just go for _this. _Nothing could feel better. Period. This was the greatest high anyone could ever reach.

She kept on rubbing, desperate for the feeling to last as long as possible. She didn't even recognize the sounds that she was making as her own, from low grunts to high squeaks. As her body stopped shaking, she came down from her high and let herself fully relax on her bed, pleasant and sated feelings coursing through her. She practically felt like purring with delight.

As her breaths got slower, she realized that it sounded very silent now. This was normal for the Fabray house at this hour, but only in this silence she realized how loud she had been. Quinn bit her lip. Okay, so perhaps those sounds weren't just for the show. She just hoped her parents wouldn't have noticed. She'd have to watch herself more carefully next time.

Because there was no way that this was the last time she'd done that. Now that she had discovered this feeling, she was hooked. Oh well, it was probably better than drugs, that could actually kill you. For this, you were only going to hell. And that was totally worth it.

The only thing that could possibly make it better was somebody else doing it to you. She sighed, thinking of Rachel's fingers trailing the path that her own had just discovered... And knew what had to be done.

* * *

"Rachel," she told the girl next day in a strict voice, surprising her at her locker, "I don't want anybody else. And when I think about you..."

* * *

**End**


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